


I Fell Through A Wormhole and All I Got Was This Lousy Human

by Ironic_Bookshop



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, minor alcoholism, shitty OC which is so clearly a Mary Sue I am sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-03-09 02:40:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13471959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ironic_Bookshop/pseuds/Ironic_Bookshop
Summary: When Hannah is accidentally pulled aboard the Enterprise- or kidnapped as she insists- she finds herself part of a large, multicultural and bizarre family. Adapting to her new surroundings, the crew form deep friendships- both with her and with each other, and Hannah must unwillingly go where no millennial has gone before.





	1. Technically Speaking, This is kidnapping

This was not the Vulcan ship.  
James Tiberius Kirk’s astute senses told him that this room, even under the guise of darkness looking as though it had suffered an explosion, was indeed, not a Vulcan ship. Perhaps the first clue was the disarray of clothes draped over a chair, or perhaps it was the huge piles of books that littered the sides of the bed. Or possibly it might just have been the retro alarm clock that wasn’t retro at all, given the date it proclaimed; “27th October 2015”. That wasn’t a star date.

“Sulu,” hissed Kirk, “How long ago was 2015?” The equally puzzled looking Sulu twisted to look at his captain. He shrugged, and furrowed his brow.

“Like, 24…3? Years ago?” He suggested. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” Kirk swore under his breath. This was definitely NOT a Vulcan ship. He twisted, getting a good look around the room. It was quite small- very small in fact- plain, most of the walls appeared to be bare. It was a complete mess though, admittedly, a path from each of the two doors to the bed had been artfully crafted.

“Who the hell are you?” Demanded a voice from behind the Star Fleet officers. Sulu and Kirk spun around, phasers out and pointed at the small figure stood in the doorway, bag slung over her shoulder. Glasses pushed up on to the top of her head, she stared at the two men in her room. Sulu immediately lowered his weapon, however, Kirk paused for a second longer. She stared at the men, unflinchingly. “I’m not repeating myself,” She insisted, striding into her room, and flicking the light switch. “My room, my rules. My questions get answered.”

“Keptin?” Crackled a voice through Kirk’s comms. “Keptin, where… where are you?”

“Chekov?” Kirk answered.The girl sat on her bed and stared at him, incredulously.

“Oi!” She demanded. She was ignored. Again. “Chekov! We…” Kirk glanced around the room, “I think we’re in the past.” Another voice, calmer, more controlled, began to speak over the Russian accent. Hearing this extra voice, the girl rolled her eyes and grabbed the forearm of the blonde man. She dragged him to face her, and repeated her question, yet was spoken over.

“Can you beam us back?” Kirk asked, doubt and disbelief edging his words.

“I think so, Keptin!”

“Then do it!”

“We’re gonna die,” mumbled Sulu under his breath, as a pale light juttered into existence around them. The girl, still holding on to Kirk’s arm, gaped at them as they seemed to be swallowed by the light.

 

This was not her room.  
The room was largely empty, with only a control desk standing behind a glass panel, and even more strangers. She raised a hand as people started to speak, her arm trembling as she spoke over them.

“Right, I don’t know who you lot are, and I don’t really care at this point. But could someone tell me for the love of God… what the hell is happening?!” Her voice rose in a crescendo to a panicked squeak. Feeling her own pulse race into a frenzy, she tried to slow her breathing- dissolving into a panic attack would not help her. “Because you may have ignored me when you invaded my room, but if I, for some bizarre reason, am going to be taken hostage then I want to know why,” gulping down air, and staring at each of the people in the room in turn, she glowered at the unknown. McCoy reached towards her, and she flinched backwards, flinging her glasses from her head and causing them to fall to the floor in a clatter. It was deafening in the room.

“Captain,” Spock commanded the attention of both Kirk and the girl, as they both turned to look at him. One with weariness, one with frightened hostility. “Perhaps it would be prudent to return to the bridge, and allow Dr McCoy to explain to…” he gestured to the girl “the child, her circumstances?” Kirk nodded and walked out of the room without another word, merely a concerned glance back to the girl. Slowly the room emptied until only the girl, McCoy and a singular red shirt remained. McCoy and the girl stood in a stare-off. McCoy blinked first.

 

“Do we know why that,” Kirk gestured back towards the transporter room, “happened?” Spock raised an eyebrow and spoke slowly;

“It is my belief that in your attempt to transport across to the Vulcan ship you passed over a crack in the skin of time and space,” he replied to his captain, preparing himself for the onslaught of disbelief that would surely follow. “Mr Scott has already confirmed my theory in his analysis of the… disturbance.” Kirk raised an eyebrow.

“A crack? Sure. Why not,” he muttered under his breath. “Plausible.”

 

“A spaceship,” She repeated. McCoy nodded. She let out an exasperated sigh and shook her head. “Technically the term is starship,” McCoy corrected, with a sly smirk. The girl rolled her eyes and muttered a sardonic apology. McCoy could feel he was going to like this girl.

“What’s your name?” He finally asked, “Didn’t really get a chance to ask when you threw your hissy fit at us.” The girl sighed and looked up at McCoy. With a look of utter dejection, she seemed to debate over whether or not to respond.

“Hannah,”

“Is that your real name?”

“Surprisingly, yes,” Hannah responded, the first hint of a smile breaking her shell of disbelief and fear.

 

Kirk listened to Scotty and Spock explain to him the ‘crack’ and he could honestly say he understood maybe three words of what they had said.

“Did you just say the fabric of space and time is cracked?” A dry voice asked from one of the many doorways that open on to the bridge. “You’re no gonna tell me that Dr Who is real as well, are you?” Hannah raised an eyebrow at them.

“Scottish? Captain, you never told me she was Scottish!” Scotty beamed. “But no, I’m afraid he is very much fictional.” Kirk watched the conversation which didn’t make anymore sense to him than the previous one about dark matter, and corruption of something-or-other. Hannah grinned at the puzzled look on Kirk’s face, and stared around the room. When her eyes fell again on the commanders standing in the middle of the Bridge, she frowned at their solemn gazes. Scotty had gone from delighted upon hearing her accent to sorrowful, and Kirk watched the young woman with a furrowed brow.

“As I understand it, this rupture, crack, thing,” Kirk began eloquently as always, “has closed. Even if we attempted to send you back to your home, neither Spock here, nor Scotty believe that it would be…” he trailed off.

“Successful,” supplied Spock. Scotty began to form words yet a swift elbow to his ribs caused him to close his mouth again. Hannah blinked. And then she swallowed. Understanding dawned slowly on her face, and she turned and walked out. McCoy, having somehow become her unofficial guardian, swiftly followed her out.

Hannah had sat, staring at walls, in the Med Bay for nearly an hour before Kirk interrupted her solitary vigil. She didn’t speak as he sat down next to her, nor did he. McCoy slowly retreated into the furtherest-most part of the med bay and busied himself with nothing. Finally, Kirk broke the silence that shrouded them.

“I’m sorry,” he stated simply. When Hannah turned to look at him, the hard lines that had dragged her brow down into an angered frown softened. Her eyes rounded from fury to sorrow, beginning to glisten with unshed tears.

“For what,” despite her distinctly tearful state, Hannah’s voice was steady, the words seemingly forming into solids in the air. “The kidnapping me, and moving me not only off my own world but out of my own timeline, or are you sorry that now you’re stuck with me and have to wrestle with your own conscience every time you see me?” Her words were direct, and cutting. Her mournful eyes were hard behind their veil of tears, and Kirk was taken aback by the hostility of her words.

“Both?” He suggested, trying a smile at her. She didn’t return the gesture. Hannah brushed a hand aimlessly through her thick hair, her hair immediately falling forwards into its original position. Meeting Kirk’s gaze yet again, Hannah huffed out something that almost resembled a laugh. Lowering her defence of hostility, she brushed a palm over an eye, blurring the remnants of mascara with the half-formed tears that had threatened to burst from the dams of her eyelashes moments ago.

“So,”she tried, “You’re the captain?” Kirk waited to see whether he should swell with pride or whether it was his turn to turn to hostility as a defence. “Glad to know I was stolen by a high ranking officer. Would have preferred an Admiral, or even better a General.”

“We don’t have Generals-” Kirk began, but he was not allowed a chance to finish before Hannah cut across him.

“-No, of course not. That’s the Army, you’re using Navy terminology,” She reasoned, with a wry smile. Only now did Kirk realise this deadpan tone was her messing with him. He let a small laugh, which caused Hannah to break into small bubbles of laughter. “Did you think I was being serious about the ‘kidnapping’ still?”

“Well, we did. Kidnap you I mean- accidentally,” Kirk spluttered out, and Hannah’s smirk only broadened into a grin. “I’m Kirk, by the way. Jim Kirk.”

“Hannah,”

 

Hannah swung her feet off the edge of the medical bay as she read from the oversized textbook. McCoy sneaked a look over at her, trying to read the cover of her book. As she looked up, he turned away, returning his gaze to the monitor in front of him. Catching the end of his sudden jerk back down, she smiled, and returned to reading her own book. McCoy paused before he glanced back up.

“Anatomy,”

“What?” McCoy feigned surprise. Hannah grinned at the detailed diagram of the muscles in the hand. Still swinging her legs like a child, Hannah continued to ‘read’ her textbook. “It’s a textbook on anatomy. I study Bio-Med,” Hannah paused, tilted her head, then reiterated. “I studied Bio-Med.” McCoy raised his eyebrow, seemingly approvingly. Hannah didn’t need to look up to know that he was watching her, and so the young woman pointed turned the page, tilting her head to feign deep immersion in the text. McCoy pushed his chair back, the scraping noise filling the room with noise.

“Do you mind, I’m trying to revise,” She taunted lightly. McCoy threw a PADD at her. It collided with her upper arm, and Hannah looked down at it as though it had committed a great infraction against humanity.

“This might be better,” He offered, yanking the textbook out of her hands. Hannah quirked an eyebrow, inviting McCoy to indulge her. “It’s my anatomy notes. When I studied at Star Fleet.” Hannah grinned, and picked up the rectangle of metal and glass. She inspected it slowly, tapping the screen experimentally. McCoy turned to return to his desk, and Hannah burst out in hysterics.

“What is this drawing? Is it a heart or a turd?” She giggled. McCoy spun to look at the drawing. Striding back to her, he looked at the drawing also.

“I’m a doctor, dammit, not an artist,” He muttered. He sulked away back in the direction of his desk for the second, only to be disturbed by another bought of laughter.

  
“And hooo boy, ‘Commander Lewis’ is not your favourite person is she?”

 

Spock sat alone at the table in the Mess Hall, reading something from his PADD as he ate. He was a solemn and sober looking individual, merely sat there, content with his own company. Whilst alone, he was not lonely, merely enjoying the solitude he so rarely achieved on this hectic ship. A throat cleared itself, pulling his gaze up. Hannah gave an awkward half-wave with a single hand, the other one holding a plate. “Hi,” She greeted, with a tentative smile.

“It was…Spock? Right?” Her smile wavered hesitantly as Spock looked at her, curiosity seeping through his mask of calmness.

“That is my name,” He confirmed. Hannah’s smile returned to her face, with more certainty. She glanced down at the seat adjacent to him, and Spock, noting the glance, invited her to sit. She did so with a quick glance around the Mess Hall. Spock returned to reading his PADD, barely reading half a sentence before Hannah interrupted him again.

“Sorry,” she began, chewing on the inside of her lip, clearly ill at ease with the ship. “Would you mind if I asked you a few questions- if you’re busy it’s completely fine, they aren’t important. -Just everything here is so strange, and I-“ She broke off suddenly.

“I am not busy, please, ask anything you wish,” Spock allowed. Hannah visibly sagged with relief. She let out a breath that she had been unconsciously holding, and leant forwards on to the table, weigh on her elbows in a manner that would have caused her Grandmother to clip her round the ear.

  
“Please, if I say anything that is offensive, correct me. I don’t wish to cause offence, but obviously I am not in my own time zone so if I do it is entirely accidental,” She took a breath to force herself not to spray words out like vomit after a particularly dramatic night out. Spock nodded, in his characteristically formal manner. Hannah paused, opening her mouth. Then shut it abruptly. She glanced down at the meal in front of her and then asked her plate of food: “You’re not human?”

“Whilst I believe that is a statement, not a question,” Spock began, Hannah winced an apology before he continued. “However, you are correct in your observation, I am not, fully, human.”

“But you are partially?”

“Indeed. My mother was human, and my father, a Vulcan.” Hannah nodded, as if that meant something to her. Spock decided to remove the need for her to ask her next question and began to indulge her in details of his species- down to their near extinction. Hannah stared at him in fascination as he explained his culture, his home. Amidst her wonder, she ate her meal slowly, never taking her eyes off the commander, nor listening to anything other than the rich tales he was telling her.

 

When Spock was finished, Hannah stared at him for a moment longer. She dragged her eyes away from this man that seemed to be familiar and yet represented everything that was different about this world she had stumbled upon. She looked across at the windows that stretched the whole length of the room. Outside there was nothing but blackness, only broken by the odd fleck of light. Suddenly, she burst out with:

“I wonder we’ve adapted differently,”

“Forgive me, I don’t-“

“Well, obviously species of bacteria and viruses would have changed from my time to yours,” Hannah explained quickly. Spock nodded curtly. “So that means you’ll-and the humans on board this ship- have antibodies that are different from mine, and so diseases that are basically harmless to me might be seriously harmful to the Captain and others. And vice versa.” She chirped out the facts happily, as though she had not just informed him a common cold could wipe out half the ship. Spock tilted his head, considering her musings.

“Whilst that is entirely possible, and I believe Dr McCoy will need to vaccinate you against many of our common illnesses, I doubt that you will trigger a widespread infection,” He reasoned. Hannah turned back to him and laughed lightly.

  
“Well, we shall see,” She grinned.

 

“What do you think of Hannah?” Kirk asked. McCoy glanced up from the monitor, briefly darting his eyes heavenwards in a silent plea to every god he knew of to allow him just five minutes without an interruption, before he returned to his monitor.

“I like her,” McCoy said simply. Kirk peered at him, searching his face intensely. McCoy’s head snapped up and sent a glare to Kirk that spoke all the threats he didn’t speak. Kirk, immune to his friend’s glower, continued to peruse his face in a hunt for a clue. McCoy closed the report that did not seem to want to be written, and turned to give Kirk his full attention. “Well, she’s sarcastic, confident, and understands when I say not to touch things it means don’t fiddle with and then break them.” This time Kirk got the not-so-subtle hint.

“It was only a tricorder,”

“Maybe I’ll only break your nose,” McCoy retorted under his breath. Kirk raised an eyebrow in search of more information. “What do you want me to tell you, Jim? I’ve known the kid all of five hours, I’m not her best friend.”

“Nah. They’ve all been dead for what 250 years?” Chirped a voice from the doorway. Hannah leant on the wall just next to the door, and the smirk on her face told Kirk she’d heard more than enough of the conversation.

“And Dr McCoy, shame on you. Do doctor-patient privileges not exist any longer?” She raised an eyebrow elegantly, causing McCoy’s brow to furrow.

“You’re not my patient,”

“Apparently now I am. Spock suggested I get vetted. Like a rabid dog,” Hannah was evidently enjoying herself. Kirk groaned and muttered something involving the words ‘another’ ‘metaphors’ ‘shoot me now’. Hannah beamed, and even McCoy smothered an amused smirk at the disgruntled Captain. Hannah handed a PADD to McCoy and he skimmed through them lightly, before beginning to rummage around for the vaccines. Hannah swiftly stole his chair. Kirk watched her with amusement, which only grew as he saw the armful of vaccines McCoy had gathered for her. Hannah’s face drooped as she saw the mounting pile of vaccines.

“I hate needles,” She gawked at them in fear.

“Same,” Sympathised Kirk, before smirking at her. “But I’ve had all mine, so enjoy.”


	2. Hairy Babies are smol and fluffy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of chilling on the Enterprise, little bit of planetary exploring- after all they are explorers! (though granted I'm fairly certain I've made it so this planet is in the wrong place in the galaxy, but oh well)

Having finally been allowed to shower, and wear clean clothes, Hannah massaged her arm. Vaccines were not fun, but at least McCoy had assured her none of these were likely to give her symptoms, just make her feel like crap for a few days. Her arm ached, the muscles groaning as she pulled on an oversized jumper. After all, she couldn’t wear Star Fleet uniform, she wasn’t a Star Fleet officer. Lucky for her, because honestly, dresses? And seemingly quite short dresses? Not really what she wanted to wear on a daily basis. Pulling her hair up off her face, she finally looked around the room she’d been designated. It was more spacious than she’d been expecting- after all she was used to her own tiny student accommodation, which barely had enough room to breath in- and once you added all her books, well, it was no room. But this had enough room for her to fell just ill at ease. Everything here was off, only the bed felt like a constant- except that was much too large. Every time she glanced at the window she expected to see city lights, or a rising sun- or some sign of civilisation. Not a vast empty void.  
Her door bleeped at her. She stared at it.

  
“Come in?” She questioned. The door seemed to bleep an affirmative to her, and slid open. Scotty stood in the door.

“Hello, wee lassie,” He grinned. Hannah returned the gesture weakly as he entered her room. She let her legs go limp and thudded on to the bed. Then her eyes fell on the bottle in his hand.

“Is that… whiskey?” She looked up at Scotty hopefully. He nodded, his grin widening.

“Aye, I thought you might need a little something. It’s no been an easy day for you,” He held the bottle out towards her, and she took it gratefully.

“That,” She spoke between wrenching the bottle open unceremoniously, “is an understatement.”

 

Kirk sat his chair, fiddling with anything he could grasp his hands on. It turns out a five year mission in deep space wasn’t quite as exciting as he had expected- despite the entire crew being held hostage by a former Star Fleet captain turned psychotic monster only last week, and now him accidentally stumbling through to a different timeline. He was bored of the monotonous routine he’d settled into, bored of the vastness of space. Every day felt predictable, and the recent planet-side adventures which caused the crew to gain a new member only made his more anxious for something to happen. Anything. Reflecting on the past couple of weeks, he tilted his head to the side, and mused on how the drama that unfurled between Ensigns Janeway and Cooper. That was interesting he had to admit, he had never expected them to be involved in any manner, but the stony silence that weighted the air between them since suggested something had indeed happen. And their shouting match in the middle of Engineering, well that was definitely interesting. Since starting their journey, relationships had evolved and changed, friendships become firmer and fallen apart into tatters. Perhaps Kirk just needed to remember that the day-to-day could be as exciting and challenging as fighting a fleet of Klingon war-birds could be. After all, you can’t hide from someone when you’re trapped on a ship with them for five years, but you can flee a fight.

“Captain,” Sulu dragged the Captain out of his musings. Kirk turned his attention to Sulu and nodded for him to continue. “A Klingon ship just…ran away.”

“Ran away? Is that a technical term?” Kirk formality, if he even had any, was disrupted at his amusement. Sulu shrugged.

“It’s the best way to put it. It was as if they saw our ship, and just jumped straight to warp. Should we follow them?” Sulu responded, confusion emanating from him as he read over the readings he was staring at. Kirk shook his head. Despite his boredom, even Kirk was smart enough to anger Klingons. Even if they were just a single ship. And The Enterprise was vastly better equipped. No. Klingons=Bad, Kirk told himself sternly.

“No, we won’t aggravate them unnecessarily,” He spoke authoritatively, forcing his boredom down. “Do we know why they were so far from Klingon space?” With this final question, Kirk turned to Spock, who tapped his console a few times and then answered.

“There is a Class M planet nearby, with an abundance of local fauna and flora, but no advanced life forms,” As Spock spoke, Kirk moved to look at the screen. The planet had a small label, naming itself to be Iota Germinorum IV. Kirk frowned at it as Spock continued. “However, there appears to be several items of advanced weaponry on the surface. Perhaps left by the Klingons?”

“Let’s go find out,”

 

Hannah and Scotty were interrupted by Kirk’s voice, disturbing them over the comms. “Beep boop,” murmured Hannah, as the comms made the same noise. She drank again from the glass, gulping it down and sitting cross-legged on her bed. She didn’t pay attention to Scotty and Kirk’s conversation until Scotty stood up. “Where are you going?” She demanded, sounding offended, if a little childish. Scotty smiled, and placed a hand on her shoulder, in an almost parental manner.

“We’ve come across a planet. There are… bombs on the surface. The Captain wants me on the away team to disarm them.” He explained. Hannah’s face lit up, like a kid at Christmas.

“A new planet? Can I come?” She chirped, hopefully. From her position, looking up at Scotty she looked so young. Sometimes it was easy to forget that all the people on this ship were really barely out of childhood- Chekov was barely 18- and here was this woman in her mid-20s who was looking so lost, so out of place. Yet she clung on to her childlike excitement at the opportunity of seeing new places.

“No,” Scotty said softly, and Hannah’s face plummeted. “Maybe next time- if you’re sober.”

 

“Took your time,” Grumbled a voice as Scotty entered the transporter room, already suited up. McCoy did not look pleased at being dragged off his ship- ironic given how much he complained about space being “disease and danger wrapped up darkness and silence”. Scotty merely glanced at him, and took his place on the transporter pad. Kirk looked at him.

“Everything okay?”

“Aye,” Scotty answered swiftly. Hell, even his captain was only 25.

“What we dealing with here?” Changing track seemed the best option right now, as the Scottish Engineer was being to feel a little emotional himself. Perhaps it was a side effect of having a kid 16 years his younger fall apart on him. Or, more probably, he’d actually drank more than he thought, and if that were the case, then he thought it best to not mention to the Captain his lack of sobriety.

“Klingon weaponry,” Kirk explained. “Don’t know why, but they appear to want to blow up a planet. We’re going to disarm their explosives, because we can.” Scotty blinked.

“Alrighty.”

 

The planet they had landed on was beautiful. There was no other word for it, it was blooming with plant life in many colours. Bright green sprawled over the roaming hill, with pink and red flowers illuminating the ridges of hills. In the distance, a forest arched around the horizon.

“The closest of the technology is just over this ridge, Captain,” Spock informed Kirk. Kirk gestured for his first officer to lead the way.

“Hello, you cute wee fellow,” Scotty picked up a small ball of fur. “I had one of you back Delta Vega.”

“Scotty, is that a tribble?” Kirk asked, exasperatedly. “Put it down.” “Aye Captain, aww but it’s purring!” “But the damn ball of fur down,” McCoy sniped. Scotty meekly put the tribble back down, only to discover that a whole swarm of them had surrounded his feet. He grinned at them, and petted one as he followed the Captain and the rest of the landing party up to the peak of the ridge. Kirk and Spock were already staring down at something when Scotty started moving up the hill. He could hear McCoy’s characteristic moan;

“Great. How are we supposed to reach something if its got a protective layer of Tribble?” Spock merely looked at them and murmured:

“Fascinating,” before heading down the other side of the ridge.

 

“Beam us back! NOW!”

“I can’t distinguish between the creatures and our crew,”

“JUST TAKE US ALL BACK, DO IT!”

 

Hannah opened the door to her room, only to have an abundance of tribbles pour into her room. In a drunk haze, she picked up one of the tribbles and cradled it in her arms.

“Hairy baby…” she mumbled, and sat down- still in the doorway- stroking it. She was swiftly surrounded by the furry creatures, their soft fur brushing against the limited bare skin she had on show. She ran her hands over them all, one at a time, smiling softly to herself. Some of the tribbles seemed to purr at her action, and she held the one in her arms closer to her chest, cuddling it. She closed her eyes, and suddenly she was not on a strange ship, in a strange time and surrounded by humanoid figures, that weren’t quite human, but at home. She was sat in front of a fire, a cat on her lap, another by her side. She was safe. She knew this place. It was where she belonged- and she could almost hear her brothers arguing upstairs, her father in the kitchen, Frances’ music blaring from her room. The tribble was tugged from her arms, and she unwillingly opened her eyes to see why. Kirk stood above her, and was gathering the tribbles up. Hannah frowned at him, and began to form words, questioning him.

“We need to take them home,” He spoke softly, carefully. “After all, we don’t want to accidentally kidnap something else, do we?” Hannah relinquished her hold and the tribble and shook her head. Red shirts rounded the corner, holding a bag containing some squirming tribbles. Kirk placed those he was holding into their bag, and held a hand out to Hannah, pulling her upright. He guided her into her own room, and sat her down on to her bed, and wiped away a tear that had begun to snake its way down her face.

“Hey, it’s okay,”

“I know,” Hannah barely made a sound, she spoke so softly. “I am sorry.” Kirk sat down next to her, and paused. Flirting with people, he could do easily. Comforting them? Not so much.

 

The next morning, Hannah’s head pounded like a construction site had appeared in her brain. She wandered around like a zombie, not really sure what she was meant to be doing- it wasn’t like she had a job on board The Enterprise. She decided coffee would be a good bet, and wandered towards the Mess Hall. Everyone seemed so loud this morning, so busy, and the Mess Hall was no exception. She blearily looked around for one of the few people she knew, and her gaze fell on Scotty. Staggering over to him, she walked into the back of a chair and winced. Scotty hid his laughter and she fell into the seat next to him.

“I discovered a thing that makes any form of drink if you ask it to,” She folded her arms on the table, and let her head rest on them.

“That’d be the replicator,” Scotty told her, amused. Hannah lifted her head, and then let out a whine.

“It’s bad. Bad replicator. I have no self control normally, but that just. No. Bad.” Scotty laughed at her, and patted her on the shoulder. He pushed her coffee towards her, and Hannah grasped it with both hands. She tried not to gag at the smell of her hair as it fell forwards.

“I feel like I remember small mammals coming into my room at one point, so you know, hallucinations-”

-“Oh no, lassie. That would have been the tribble infestation. They’re tiny balls of fur. We had to cool them all down to make them hibernate so we could return them to the surface without them replicating,” Scotty explained. Hannah raised her eyebrows at the coffee mug.

“Not a hallucination. Okay. Great,”

“That doesn’t sound like a genuine ‘great’ to me, wee lassie,” Scotty nudged her. “Come on, what did you do?”

“I think I threw up on your Captain,”

 

Kirk felt like he still smelt like sick. He wondered exactly how much Hannah had drunk to get herself into such a state. On the bright side, at least she wouldn’t be able to remember his foul attempts at comforting. He ran a hand through his hair, and sighed, time for another dull day, repetitive and boring. Then he remembered it was his sole day off a week. Today was the day that Spock ran his ship, and Kirk got to simply relax, do whatever he wanted to. In this case, he wanted to see exactly how hungover Hannah was. And maybe he’d go see Bones for once, after all he owed his friend greatly for his help in getting rid of all the tribbles. And for not killing Spock multiple times on Altamid. And for saving his life with Khan’s blood. Actually, now Kirk thought about it, he was vastly in debt to his friend. Feeling moderately guilty for half a heartbeat, Kirk shrugged off the thought and left his room. After all, it was his only day off, Bones would understand- and Kirk was sure he was still playing with the dead tribble. It had been the sole thing Spock and Bones had agreed on, well, ever, really. So, Kirk was truly doing him a favour, leaving him in peace to experiment. With that justification lingering in his thoughts, Kirk strode out of his room, in search of a hungover 20 year old.

Hannah was on her fourth coffee. The empty mugs lay on her table, littering the surface. Ah, just like home, in those long weeks of studying before finals, where sleep was no longer an option and her body was fuelled by caffeine and spite. She’d brought the PADD containing McCoy’s notes from his medical studies, and, despite her mockery, she had to admit, they were pretty good. The little snippy comments he’d added were surprisingly helpful, with little jokes actually making sense of the methods that sounded so foreign to her prior to reading them.

“I think if you have anymore coffee, Dr McCoy is going to have a fit,” commented a voice from above her. Hannah practically leapt out of her seat, jerking back in surprise so fervently that her coffee erupted out of the mug, spilling over her arm, and splashing to such a height that some hit Kirk in the nose. Hannah winced. Kirk wiped the coffee from his nose, and sat down opposite her.

“Sorry?” Hannah grinned sheepishly at him.

“Why is McCoy going to have a fit?” Her question sounded tentative, as if she thought she might have committed a great offence.

“You do know caffeine is bad for you?” Kirk pointed to the four mug, containing dregs of coffee. “If he finds out, I’m sure you’ll get a moan about how you’re slowly destroying your own body.” Hannah laughed lightly under her breath, thinking how her mother used to give her the same spiel about excessive consumption of caffeine. Her mother. Now that was not a road she wanted to go down, Hannah told herself sternly, she’d already cried on Kirk once, and that was one time too many. Kirk raised an eyebrow at her.

“You okay?” He asked, concerning lacing his voice. Hannah blinked away the armada of tears that threatened to break the banks that were her eyelashes. “Yeah,” She shook her head lightly, and dropped her gaze to her mug. When she lifted her head again, a faint whisper of a smile tugged at her mouth.

“Just that reminded me of stuff mum used to say before she left. Hey!” Her eyes brightened, and she met Kirk’s gaze. “Mumma McCoy.” Laughter caused the coffee in her mug to jostle around, taunting the edges with another spillage.

“Mumma McCoy,” Kirk repeated, “I’m sure Bones would love that.”

 

Needless to say, McCoy did not enjoy being called ‘Mumma McCoy’. He enjoyed being called ‘Lenny’ even less, when Hannah offered it up as an alternative. Kirk had watched their interaction with a strange feeling, that he couldn’t quite place, brewing in his gut. The way that Hannah had thrown back her head- quite literally- in hysterics at McCoy’s face when she called him ‘Lenny’ made it impossible not to join in. He had a feeling she would manage to find a home on board the Enterprise easily enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because what is Star Fleet if not exploratory, and yes planets and aliens might move places and times of discovery, because I forget when they show up... I know Star Trek: Voyager the best, yet that's in the wrong quadrant for this so, awks.


	3. It's a planet that's not Earth

It’d been a week since Hannah had suddenly been hit with the knowledge that space travel, and alien species existed, and she had spent almost every waking hour trying to wrap her head around this new universe. She’d bombarded McCoy with questions on physiology, most of which McCoy didn’t know the answers to, and had to sneakily look up whilst Hannah was distracted with something else she was trying to experiment with. She turned to Spock when there were probing questions about the universe as a whole, and she’d discovered that Uhura and Carol Marcus were really good at explaining the basics of political correctness in these societies. Uhura had offered to teach her a language, but Hannah recoiled at the memory of how terrible she’d been at French in her GCSEs, and offered a:

  
“Maybe once I’ve got my head around everything else?” As a poor excuse.  
Chekov, whenever she asked, always gave her the answer that something was invented in Russia, and would give a lengthy explanation to her, which almost made sense. She thought maybe two? Three? Of his tales had been founded in some truth. As the exact week anniversary of her so-called kidnapping hit, Hannah was sat in Engineering on a console next to Keenser, and listening to how Scotty had scattered an Admiral’s prize beagle into atoms across the whole galaxy.

  
“You sure it was an accident?” Hannah teased him, as Scotty concluded his story. Scotty looked up at her, faux-offence pulling his face into a frown. She laughed at his false pout for a solid five minutes, drawing the attention of several engineering officers nearby. Scotty couldn’t hold his sulk, fake or otherwise, for long.

  
“Get down,” he told her and Keenser with an amused glint sneaking into his voice, as a last-ditch attempt to stay stern. As Hannah propelled herself down on to the metal floor, a memory seemed to stir up in him. “Oh, and lassie, if you still want to visit a planet, I believe James Tiberius Perfect-Hair is beaming down to one in the next few hours if you-” He trailed off as Hannah had already started to leave Engineering, with a:

  
“Thank You!” Thrown over her shoulder, and a cheery wave to Keenser.

 

Kirk sat in his room, reading the copious amount of material on the species he was meant to be greeting, and made a mental note never to ask Spock what he knew about a species ever again. The noise of the door interrupted him, and Kirk thanked the stars for the distraction- the text was so boring, it was so much effort to trudge through it all.

  
“Come in,” he called without looking up. Hannah practically skipped into his room. She pushed her elbows on to his desk, resting her chin in her hands. Kirk deliberately slowly raised his head to look at her.

  
“I hear you’re visiting a planet,” She announced, grinning hopefully at him. Kirk raised an eyebrow.

  
“Yes…” He began, warily. Hannah’s grin widened further.

  
“Can I come?” She practically begged. Kirk paused, and before he could say anything else she continued in a rush. “Please, come on, I want to do something- at least all you guys have jobs and shit to do, I’m just sat on my arse all day, getting in the way and trying to understand what the hell is going on-” She caught a breath, and Kirk opened his mouth to reply, but again, she cut him off in a flurry of words. “-I just want to do something, I know I’ll be as useless and in the way on the planet, but I promise I won’t speak or do anything unless you tell me to, I just want to explore, because this is so exciting and I-” She suddenly cut off, as she stood up, and paced around Kirk’s quarters a few steps. Kirk, taking advantage of the brief silence, shoved his chair back inelegantly, as he stood to speak to her.

“I don’t think it’d be a good idea,” He began, only to be disturbed by the door for a second time. Shutting his eyes in exasperation, he groaned out a; “Come in.”  
Hannah normally would have laughed at the dull, flatness of his voice, yet this time she was still trying to conjure ways to let her go down on to the planet with Kirk, because honestly, she needed to do something or she was going to go insane.  
Spock entered the room in a manner that was the complete reverse of Hannah’s actions- instead of bounding around, full of energy, Spock was straight backed and calm, hands clasped lightly behind his back as he greeted the Captain respectfully. Hannah largely didn’t listen to their conversation, but began to as she realised, if she could get Spock on her side, Kirk wouldn’t be able to come back with a solid argument to refute her desperate plea.

  
“Captain, it is crucial that you convince them to join the Federation, Commodore Paris was insistent. Their space travel may be limited, however, their medicinal knowledge could-“

  
“I could accompany Captain Kirk,” Hannah offered with a feign of innocence. Spock turned to her, facing away from the Captain, and so oblivious to him rolling his eyes and proceeding to slouchy and silently moan to the ceiling. Spock raised his eyebrow, and Hannah continued, calmly. “I merely thought, as I am recently acquainted with space travel, and the Federation, then perhaps I would be able to empathise with the native species, and answer their more basic questions. You are aware of the extent of my knowledge, and I simply thought it might be prudent for me to provide explanations, as everyone else on board this ship has grown up in this society, and may miss important factors that seem obvious to yourselves.”

  
Silence fell in the Captain’s quarters as Spock pondered her speech. Hannah delicately sat down on the arm of Kirk’s couch, and waited for Spock’s answer. Kirk glared at Hannah, but swiftly smoothed his expression into a neutral one as Spock turned to him. Hannah briefly stuck her tongue out at the Captain.

  
“Captain, her logical is sound. I would advise you accept her offer.”

  
“Fine. If she insists,”

 

Hannah spun in her seat in the shuttle. Given that she didn’t understand, well, anything, of the readings, she’d taken to guessing what everything was. She seemed to bounce around the shuttle, even whilst sat still, just something about her manner gave off the impression of pure energy. Child-like excitement fuelled her glee, and she hadn’t stopped grinning yet. She reminded Kirk of a puppy. And she reminded him of why he loved space. All those new places to explore- new things to see, new species to meet and learn about. He smiled to himself and Hannah did not miss the expression.

  
“You’re smiling- see you’re not entirely objected to me being here!” Hannah chirped. Puppy and a baby bird. Kirk smiled, and turned his head partially towards her, though his gaze remained firmly on the consoles in front of him.

“I didn’t not want you to come,” Kirk objected. Hannah narrowed her eyes at him. “Okay, maybe I didn’t want you to come. But that was mostly because I thought you’d be disappointed in what you saw.” Hannah scoffed, looking back out of the window.

“You could show me Cardiff, and I’d be excited, Kirk,” She leant forwards to get a better look out the window. “This is amazing.” Pausing for a heartbeat, Hannah glanced at Kirk, as they entered the atmosphere of the planet. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Kirk frowned. Hannah opened her mouth, but was not given the opportunity to answer, as the whole shuttle lurched forwards and seemingly lost all power, as it plunged towards the very-solid looking earth below.

 

“Kirk to Enterprise!”

They were given no answer as they plunged towards the ground below.

 

The shuttle didn’t have the luxury of trees to slow its descent, and so it crashed into the ground with terrifying force. Leaving behind an elongated crater in its wake, the hull scraped across the ground, progressively slowing down. Both of its passengers were unconscious, but somehow alive as the shuttle dragged to a halt. Their heads flopped forwards in sync, and there they remained.

 

“Commander, we just lost contact with the shuttle,” Sulu turned to look at Spock. “I think they’re thrusters cut out just before we lost contact.”

 

Hannah groggily returned to consciousness, her lids weighted down, and unwilling to open. She dragged her head upright, forcing her aching neck muscles into action. Hannah suppressed a groan, pain rippling through her entire frame.

“Kirk?” She mumbled. Silence, except for a buzzing haunting Hannah’s ears. She forcibly pushed herself into a standing pose- pushing down on the console in front of her to convince her limbs into action. “Kirk?” She called again, worry lacing into the single word she spoke. She rushed over to him, crouching in front of him. He didn’t respond to her pressing her fingers into his neck, hastily checking for a pulse. She breathed a sigh of relief when pressure pushed on to her fingertips below the artery. Blood trailed down his face, originating from a small cut on his forehead. Hannah lightly brushed a thumb over it, and swiftly dismissed it, too shallow to elicit concern. It was then she noticed the seeping blood through his shirt.

“How the hell did you get cut there?” She mumbled under her breath.

“Must be luck,” Kirk answered, blearily opening his eyes to look down at her. Hannah blinked, having not expected a response. She glanced up at him, and then lifted his shirt to inspect his wound, without a word. Her face remained expressionless, and she grabbed Kirk’s own hand with one of her own. Pushing the wound together with one hand, and pulled Kirk’s hand over hers.

“Hold this together,” She ordered, and stood up, scanning the shuttle bay for a med kit of any kind. She found one, and swiftly released that she didn’t know how to use any of the equipment. “Fuck it,” she grumbled, and ripped open a bag she’d brought with her. Grasping a make-shift miniature trauma kit she had on her, she muttered under her breath something utterly incomprehensible.

“What’s that?” Kirk mumbled. Hannah returned to her crouched position in front of Kirk, and didn’t answer him, only looked at the cut, digging into his midsection. Pulling out some thread and a surgical needle, she finally answered him ambiguously.

“You’re lucky my last lecture was with Fletch,” She glanced at him, as she stuck the thread through the eye of the needle. And paused. Leaning back slightly, she looked back up at him, an apology welling in her eyes. “Sorry,” She winced, removing Kirk’s hand from the wound. Kirk barely formed his question, when Hannah daintily pressed the needle through his skin.

 

The Enterprise was still hanging around, just out of orbit of the planet. There was no better term for it, as that was all they were doing, whilst McCoy and Spock argued over what to do- did they go attempt to get the Captain back or not. Scotty had said they weren’t going to be able to beam down, hence why Kirk and Hannah had taken a shuttle in the first place, something about geographic interference making it impossible.

“um, Enterprise?” A voice echoed over the comms. “Anybody hear me?”

“You’re alive,” McCoy merely sounded surprised, not pleased, just pleasantly surprised. “No shit,” The drawling tone emanated sarcasm so fiercely that McCoy felt a spark of pride. It was like having another him around, but, a happier version of him.

“Is the Captain injured?’ Spock asked, turning away from McCoy. When Hannah replied, listing off Kirk’s injuries and Hannah’s make-shift treatment of them. She then began whining about the shuttle shutting down on them.

“Can you tell what the mechan-“

“It wasn’t a mechanical fault. A fault would give off an alarm or alert of some kind, right?” She spoke with conviction, and didn’t wait for a confirmation before continuing. “We had none, just everything shut down one at a time- including life support, I’m guessing ‘cos both of us were briefly unconscious, and I have no memory of the actual impact.” She explained herself quickly, but surprisingly calmly, as if she were a doctor giving a diagnosis to another medical professional. That was until Spock asked to speak to the Captain, and Hannah suddenly realised he was slipping from consciousness. Panic then flooded her tone, and she shut the communicator, cutting off the Enterprise’s only link to the stranded away team.

 

“Stay,” Ordered Hannah, sounding as though she were talking to a stray puppy, not her captain. Kirk stood up, having to lean on the control panel to be able to drag himself upright. Trying desperately to keep his face neutral, he looked down on her, and spoke:

“I’m not letting you go out there on your own,” he protested. Hannah cocked an eyebrow, and placed a hand on her hip, in a stereotypically disapproving fashion. Pausing for a moment, she stared down her captain, then strode forwards two steps to him. She removed her hand from her hip, placing it on Kirk’s shoulder, and inelegantly forced him down into his seat.

“You,” she said, authoritatively, narrowing her eyes mocking. “are staying right here. In this chair. Whilst I go see if I can find anyone. I will a communicator, I will talk to you the whole time- and you better talk back because if you lose consciousness again, bitch I will cut you.” Kirk’s eyes widened on the last sentence.

“And after you sowed me up so neatly,” he commented. “Seems like it would be a waste to simply reopen it.” Hannah let her gaze drop from his eyes, and leant close to him.

“Who’s says I’d reopen that cut? I might, remove something?” She taunted, and then spun and strode out of the shuttle. Kirk groaned, and twisted in his chair, trying to get comfortable. Hannah quickly darted back into the shuttle.

“Don’t you dare leave,” She growled at Kirk.

 

Hannah gazed around in wonder, loving the differences between this world and everything she knew of Earth- the ground-level plant life that covered this planet wasn’t grass, at least not as she knew grass. It was spongey, more like a moss than a grass, and huge deep purple blossoms hung from large woody plant, and Hannah reached out to brush her fingers through it. The blossoms flowed like silk over her fingertips and she barely resisted a grin.

“This is amazing,” she murmured. She spun around, looking back towards where she had come from. The course left by the shuttle formed a grotesque scar in the landscape that was otherwise unmarred from harm. The scarring revealed the scarlet soil, scraping through to the deep blue that formed the most common stone of the planet. Hannah winced at the sight of the impact, almost apologising for the damage, before turning back around. She flipped open the communicator, and spoke directly into it:

“Kirk, you still alive?”

“No. I died of boredom.” Hannah smirked at Kirk’s response. He sounded like a little kid left at home whilst his parents went shopping.

“Well, in that case, Kirk’s ghost, there’s a hill in front of me, I’m gonna climb to the top of it and see if I can get a better look at this place.” She was already walking up the incline as she spoke, and laughing at the sulking of Kirk.

“Hurry up,”

 

Hannah bounded back into the shuttle, and grinned at the rapidity of motion at which Kirk’s head whipped to look at her.

“I found a cityyyy,” Hannah sang. Kirk’s face lit up, and Hannah nodded excitedly. “Yup! And they held me at gun point!” Kirk frowned at her. He tilted his head to peer at her.

“Why do you say that like it’s a good thing?” He asked hesitantly, questioning Hannah’s sanity, yet again. She beamed, somehow even wider than before.

“Because that means that they think I might be a threat. Do you know how exciting that is?” She chirped. “I was threatening. I am normally the damsel in distress in everyone’s eyes, not the THREAT!” She threw her hands in the air, dancing in glee. Her voice rose on the last word, and she jumped in the air, skipping, and grinning slightly maniacally. She stopped skipping, and skidded on to the floor next to Kirk, and crossed her legs. She lightly grasped at the hem of his shirt, lifting her eyes to his in a question. Kirk nodded wearily. Hannah didn’t change her expression as she lifted his shirt and inspected her makeshift stitches. She lightly brushed a hand over the skin just above the cut, Kirk flinched slightly at her cold hands.

“Sorry, just trying to see how inflamed your wound is,” She apologised. Hannah then stood, and inspected the cut on his forehead. Kirk lightly pushed her away after a few seconds.

“I am fine,” He insisted, drawing his hand back from her stomach. “Tell me about the city.”

“Well you’re in luck, they have transporter capabilities, so we can go back to the ship, and figure out why our shuttle shut down unexpectedly.” She reported, matter of factly. “And Spock said they’re amazing healers, so maybe they’ll have a better idea of how to deal with your wound.” Kirk struggled upright, and leant on the control panel, before forcing himself to stand.

“Lead the way,”


End file.
